


The Strongest Stars

by saellys



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Kid Fic, Pre-Movie(s), Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 18:19:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8906971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saellys/pseuds/saellys
Summary: “They say only the pure of heart can enter chambers such as this,” says the smaller man. “Are you pure of heart, young one?” 
Bodhi thinks about the time he took apart his grandfather’s chrono, but he broke a chip trying to put it back together, so he bolted the back panel on and his grandfather had to spend credits to fix it. “I don’t know,” he says.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Vrabia had [a great idea](http://vrabia.tumblr.com/post/154639473156/official-ages-of-the-rogue-one-crew-jyn-22#notes), so I wrote it.

Bodhi doesn’t usually wander off. Certainly not out in the city, where there are always too many people and he clings to his grandfather’s hand. Timid, his grandfather calls him, but Bodhi feels tense more than anything. There’s a buzzing in his head like an ungrounded comm unit and he feels terribly exposed. 

In the temple, though, all is warm and close and still. Even when it’s full for devotion, it’s mostly quiet--silent reflection, his grandfather calls it. At age five Bodhi understands a fraction of the teachings, but he understands what he feels in that place. 

He understands, too, that he is not at liberty to explore the temple’s many narrow passages, but when the observance ends and the faithful begin to file out, something glimmers at the edge of his vision. He hangs back, and his grandfather, discussing a doctrinal nuance with the guardian, does not notice. Bodhi tells himself he’ll be back before his grandfather realizes he’s gone.

The passage where he saw the light is so small that Bodhi can touch both walls, and he does as he walks. The stone is smooth from hundreds of hands over hundreds of years. 

Bodhi’s feet deliver him to a chamber much smaller than the ones used for devotion, but the kyber crystal in its center is much larger than the ones he is used to seeing in the temple. It juts from the floor at an angle, pointing toward where two walls meet the ceiling at the far end of the room, and while it does not emit light, he can’t quite sort out where the light in the room is actually coming from. The crystal is as long as Bodhi’s arm and beyond its clear facets is a mist of white, curling like a galaxy. And within the mist, something… else. Bodhi steps closer, peers in, can almost make out--

“What should we do with this one?” says a rough voice, and Bodhi jumps back from the crystal. 

The two guardians come from opposite sides of the room, even though Bodhi doesn’t remember those doorways being there. They’re around the same age as his mother. The smaller of the two men holds a stick before him, and after a moment of staring Bodhi realizes he can’t see. Then he looks away, because he knows it’s rude to stare, and then he looks back, because the man won’t know he’s staring, and then he looks away again, because the larger man is staring at  _ him _ .

“They say only the pure of heart can enter chambers such as this,” says the smaller man. “Are you pure of heart, young one?” 

Bodhi thinks about the time he took apart his grandfather’s chrono, but he broke a chip trying to put it back together, so he bolted the back panel on and his grandfather had to spend credits to fix it. “I don’t know,” he says. 

The smaller man laughs. “A good answer. However, since Baze enters this place often, I suppose the legends are just that.” 

Bodhi glances uncertainly to Baze, whose expression is unchanged. “Are you a Jedi?” he asks the other man. 

“Why do people only ask you that, Chirrut?” grumbles Baze. 

Chirrut turns and leads them out of the chamber, a different way from how Bodhi got there. “Do you know what happens when a scrap of metal sticks to a magnetic stone for a long time?”

Of course Bodhi knows. “It becomes a magnet, too.”

Chirrut walks on, and doesn’t seem to have any plans to answer Bodhi’s question. Bodhi opens his mouth to repeat it, but they pass by another chamber and he stops and stares again. Inside is a crystal larger than him, and a guardian with one hand pressed to a facet. The white mist in that crystal is  _ moving _ , and now Bodhi is sure he sees symbols, letters, taking form. “What is that?” he breathes. 

“A page of the journal,” says Baze.

“It chronicles great names and great deeds,” Chirrut adds, waiting for them down the hall, “and it speaks its own language.”

“Who can read it?”

“Anyone who knows how to listen.”

A terrible certainty fills Bodhi. He is not supposed to see this. He is certain his grandfather never has, nor any of the faithful. This is a secret of the highest magnitude, the holiest order, and no, he is not pure of heart, and there will be consequences--

A hand rests lightly on his shoulder, covering it entirely. “Breathe deep, little brother,” Baze says. “The Force of others is here too.” 

Bodhi does breathe easier, though the sense of having witnessed something sacred does not diminish. He leaves the chamber with its mystery behind and follows Chirrut in silence now. 

And though the passage was not parallel to the one that led out from the devotion chamber, and Bodhi can not remember making any turns, they emerge into the temple’s vestibule, meters from his grandfather, who has just started looking for him. 

Bodhi runs to his side, with a hasty “Thank you!” to the two guardians, and when he looks back they have turned away, and Chirrut has his stick under one arm and his other hand on Baze’s shoulder, and Baze is leading him, which is odd because Chirrut doesn’t actually need to be led. 

As they step out into the city Bodhi takes his grandfather’s hand, but after a moment he realizes he is carrying the quiet of the temple with him, and the buzzing doesn’t reach him. He follows the labyrinth streets of Jedha at his grandfather’s side and wonders what his name would look like in the white mist language of kyber crystals, and how brave he would have to be to put it there. 


End file.
